The Palace of Tears Alev Lytle Croutier (Hutchinson, £12)

SCHEHERAZADE'S A Thousand and One Nights is well known for the web of delightful tales told in Arabia, and The Palace of Tears reminds me forcefully of the lure of the East brought (almost) up to date.

Casimir de Chateauneuf is a successful vintner, rich enough to indulge his need for variety, including prolonged stays in Paris, a mistress and money to spend on fripperies.

One autumn afternoon finds him wandering through the arcades of the Palais Royal, window gazing. One shop catches his eye. 'Orientalia' is a microcosm of the casbah transported to Paris, full of hookahs, daggers and tambourines. In a corner of the window is a miniature painting of a beautiful woman. Her skin is like ivory, and she has one blue eye and one brown eye. Casimir is smitten.

That night, lying in bed, with the picture on his night table, he dreams of minarets and a domed city. Even his mistress cannot distract him.

Possessed by the image of the oriental woman, Casimir abandons wife, country - everything and journeys across sea and desert. He discovers the woman is called La Poupee and starts his search for her. He ends up in the City of the World's Desire - Istanbul.

A grown-up fairy tale, beautifully printed and bound using engravings of the era, The Palace of Tears is a delightful present for a friend, but it would be perfect for a lover.

Annie Dendy